Flowers for the Forgotten
by Yakolev
Summary: Following the death of the last Draconid Lorekeeper, Rayquaza wishes to fully honor the rise and fall of the tribe inspired by his very existence. To do so, however, he must rely on the aid of an unlikely ally... Rayquaza / Giratina
1. Chapter 1

**Flowers for the Forgotten**

"Zinnia's dead."

Getting Rayquaza's attention was normally an impossible task – the green wyrm disdained interaction of any sort, always eager to escape any and all attention when possible. However, as the ruler of the underworld uttered those two words, she saw him immediately turn around, half-snarl visible in his jawline as he stared back at her. Surprise and anger clashed in his expression, as if he were conflicted between asking why Giratina, of all legendaries, started a conversation with him and why he, of all legendaries, should even bother to give her even a minute of his time.

The two lingered in the entrance chamber of the Hall of Origins, the last members remaining after one of the council's regular meetings. Normally, Giratina found no reason at all to stay and mill about with her fellow legendaries – she came last and left first in an effort to spend as little time as possible in the company of others. Rayquaza thought similarly, so eager to return to the Sky Pillar or a place far away from any other form of life that he would prematurely quit meetings at times. Despite her numerous disagreements with not only his philosophies, but also his very existence, she had to admit that he got at that one detail right.

Despite that, though, Giratina stayed today to give the green dragon some pertinent news. Out of the recent souls that passed through her domain, she recognized one far different than the rest – it shone brightly, fiercely, with an aura almost more animal than human. Over the course of her rule over Turnback Cave, she became acquainted with the Draconids, a people renowned for their devotion to the god Rayquaza. She did not care to explore whether he warranted such worship, but regardless once every decade or so another one of their souls came through the abyss. Their utmost reverence for the dragon must have molded their very beings, becoming almost transcendent in existence to stick out so strongly from the others.

But she knew that this was the final one of those she would see. It was no secret to either of them that Zinnia was the last of the fabled Lorekeepers, and despite however little she wanted to do with Rayquaza it was her obligation to at least advise him of what had occurred.

"Excuse me?" he asked, glaring at her with those caustic, chartreuse eyes of his. The gold tiling of the floor below reflected the afternoon sunlight onto his scaled underside, casting an almost holy glow on the dragon. She smiled wryly at the effect, irony of the image all too apparent. "Did you say that Zinnia is dead?"

Whatever threatening effect the dragon desired simply sloughed off of Giratina, complete indifference plain on her black and gold face. Turnback Cave faced her with the nightmarish and grotesque on a daily basis, so some displaced animosity from a colleague proved to be nothing but a mere annoyance. "Do your ears always pop when you fly up here, Rayquaza?" she asked coolly in response. "Or have you always been so hard of hearing?"

"I was asking to confirm what you just said," he snapped back, narrowing his eyes at her. "You have to understand that the last time we talked face to face was..." He crossed his skinny arms, head tilted as he feigned recollection. "Right, never," he concluded, scowl quick to return. "So forgive me if I'm surprised that you, guardian of hell on earth, actually wanted to talk to me."

She somehow prevented herself from rolling her eyes as Rayquaza demonstrated one of his trademark acidic rebuttals, ridiculousness of his display tickling her amusement. "You're one to talk," she said with a snort. "Really, Rayquaza, the social defect, lecturing me on how to approach others. Isn't that ironic."

"The pot calls the kettle black," he responded, long body coiling up as he floated an iota closer to her. She nearly backed up at the movement, raising a wing slightly to tell Rayquaza that coming any closer would result in his imminent evisceration. "But enough of that – you've wasted enough of my time as it is. Is it true," he said without a hint of emotion, "That Zinnia has passed on?"

Giratina only nodded at him, almost wanting to laugh at the euphemism he used. Even Rayquaza, she noticed, avoiding the term "death." Over the years most of the legendary council chose to avoid that word at all for it reminded them of their immortality. For them, death could result only from violence, bloodshed, suffering, a fate unbefitting of legendary status. But even so, she didn't peg Rayquaza as soft enough to use that term based on how cynically he saw the world. His particular use of the phrase, minor as it was, aroused her curiosity.

"I see," she heard him say in acknowledgment. "Zinnia was the last of the Draconid Lorekeepers. She takes with her the legacy of her tribe as well as any pertinent history or details the humans have of my existence. I can't say that I'm dissatisfied with that, considering how dangerous they can be with that sort of knowledge." Without another word the laconic legendary turned away from Giratina, not even bothering to await her response as he floated towards the exit of the Great Hall.

The dragon stared at his back quizzically as he left her standing alone. Even with her very limited experience with the dragon, she could observe how oddly his body contorted, raising her suspicions considering how nonchalantly he just received her news. He looked genuinely uncomfortable as he extended his body out for flight, body uncoiling in a twisted, clumsy fashion.

As if he knew a pair of burgundy eyes tracked his every movement, Rayquaza shot her a distant look. It frustrated Giratina to no end that she could not scrutinize his expression – she knew not if he simply feigned the indifference that plastered his face, or if he genuinely did not care about what she had just told him. As she continued to ponder, a slight wind traveled through the hall as he exited the great marble doors of the Hall of Origin. Second later he became only a thin shadow against the dying afternoon light filtering into the hall as he jetted far away.

As Giratina too began walking towards the exit, she found herself suddenly interested in the green dragon's machinations. Regardless of whether he actually cared or not, his behavior deviated far from his normally apathetic, lonesome demeanor. Did the great Rayquaza, whose only known weakness was a red, fair-feathered dragon, mourn the loss of a single human? She groaned to herself at the very thought, remembering that discussion she had with Arceus so long ago – the legendaries, under no circumstances, could ever become attached to mortal beings. Her patented expertise on loss and suffering made the consequences of such a mistake more than apparent.

Either way, Giratina refused to believe that the green dragon's antics deserved any more of her attention. What concern of it was hers what he did or how he reacted to that news? She shut down whatever curious thoughts prickled her mind and shelved the day's occurrence as nothing more but an anomaly, instead redirecting her thoughts towards the work to be done back at Turnback Cave.

* * *

The trees surrounding Sendoff Spring seemed to bow before Rayquaza's very might as he descended from the black, starry sky, the dragon's entrance cloaked in the darkness of night. As he hovered slightly over the lake, he winced at the how the sound radiated from his landing, faint howl gusting through the forest. Not far from the water's edge sat the entrance to Turnback Cave, that dim, shadowy cavern where Giratina herself lived.

As he opened his claws, nearly cramped shut from the hours-long flight, his expression brightened when he saw that the white lilies he carried so tightly managed to survive the travel. Summoning the wherewithal to actually ask Shaymin to produce them proved to be a challenge – Rayquaza was tough, strong, case-hardened, powerful, far above asking for some damn fragile flowers. He didn't know if he had the fortitude to replace them if something went awry.

However, he needed them for tonight, for this very special occasion. Because of that he didn't mind the temporary embarrassment associated with his request too much, despite the grassy hedgehog's quizzical expression or lilting tones when he first talked to her. "For Latias?" Shaymin had asked jokingly, causing him to summon a glare so intense he saw the flower behind her ear visibly wilt.

He glanced around carefully, eyes searching for any sudden movement or, rather, Giratina. The bitch governed her territory with an iron fist, and certainly would not take kindly to his intrusion. Rayquaza needed to drop these flowers somewhere before she learned of his presence. The last thing he wanted was a conflict over his intentions.

But where to lay them? As he gazed around the forest, it dawned upon him that there existed no shrine or grave for him to leave the flowers. The stupidity of it all suddenly hit him as he just floated there, face starting to burn from embarrassment. What the hell was he expecting when he got here? A giant graveyard? Thousands and thousands of tombstones as far as the eye could see? It dawned upon him far too late that Sendoff Spring was a forest, not a cemetery.

His options were few. Of course, Rayquaza considered actually entering the cave but quickly knew that he'd rather enter Turnback dead than alive. The persistent howling and groaning within produced an atmosphere inhospitable to even the bravest of legendaries, and even if that didn't pose a problem it ignored the fact that Giratina also lurked deep within, sulking away, destroying souls or whatever that godforsaken legendary did in her free time. If that particularly abrasive dragon figured out what he was up to, she would haunt him for the rest of eternity about how he appeared at her doorstep oh so weak, so lost, so pitiful with those damn flowers in his clutches. _Who knew Rayquaza could possess such compassion_ , he imagined in Giratina's voice, and he shivered at how accurately he reproduced her vindictive tone.

However, the slight swishing sound behind him and the cold wave of air passing around him were not products of his imagination. A chill ran down his back as he dared not turn back, quickly realizing just who had just formed right behind him.

He heard the inhalation of the ghost behind him, and as the words came out her voice sounded all too real, far more credible than anything he could conjure in his head.

"We have a visitor, it seems."

* * *

 _chapter 1 of 2_


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Rayquaza was not a legendary who scared easily. He wore emerald armor scored with proud scars of conflicts long past, living evidence of his veteran history. The battle-hardened dragon bore witness to the great Kalos war terminated by the activation of the ultimate weapon, and fought hard to diffuse the clash between the two Unovan kings when Reshiram and Zekrom dared to take each other's lives. When Kyogre and Groudon's vitriolic relationship rose to a fever pitch, it fell upon his shoulders to ensure that they did not destroy each other along with the rest of the world. Needless to say, the serpent had been through enough fights that his pompous title as world defender was not as facetious as it sounded.

But fear ran through his veins like ice as he stiffened up, unable to move an inch as that damned ghostly dragon formed behind him. Even the water below him calmed itself, the ripples across the surface disappearing due to his stillness. "You look as if you've seen Death herself," Giratina said with that infuriatingly snarky tone as she approached, her Origin form allowing her to float over the lake towards him. Her golden mask hid any possible emotion Rayquaza could hope to read, only her carmine eyes visible through those slits.

He grunted in response as he turned to face her, forcing himself to relax his body slightly to avoid rousing her suspicion. Though, all things considered, his mere presence at Sendoff Springs probably raised every one of her alarms as he virtually felt her eyes travel all over his body. It annoyed him to no end that Giratina's scrutiny made him self-conscious so easily, as if she were examining the great, venerable dragon like a bug under a microscope. "Why don't you take a picture?" Rayquaza asked, unable to keep a snarl out of his voice. "It'll last longer. Or do you see something you like?"

"Please, Rayquaza," she responded, rolling her eyes. "Why would I ever want a picture of you? Really, I have to ask Latias sometime why she finds you so impressive, since I don't see anything but a spindly green wind chime floating in front of me."

His eyes narrowed in anger, and as he opened his mouth to rebuke her insult the ghost beat him to the punch. "So what drives you to trespass into my territory?" she asked, openly hostile voice grating the night air. "Aren't you supposed to keep to the Sky Pillar like a good little boy?"

The green dragon said nothing at all, golden eyes gazing out to the distant mountains as his face hardened up. "Well?" Annoyed, she narrowed her eyes at the quiet legendary. As she looked over the dragon, Giratina couldn't help but notice those small lilies in his claws, white petals illuminated by the pale moonlight, shifting in the breeze. From her recollection, they symbolized the innocence of the dead, the clean break between the living body and the departed spirit. Coupled with his actions from earlier that day, she needed no further evidence to deduce his intentions.

But the real question was _why_ he cared so much for just a human – over the millennia she had spent on the council, Giratina identified him as just a loner, posturing, narcissist of a legendary. His current behavior didn't match that profile at all. What possible connections could he have forged with the Draconids that he would go this far for them?

The curiosity she sealed away now fought to escape with renewed vigor, and before she could stop herself she enacted a plan to determine the cause for his presence. "Oh, I think I know why you're here," she said, sadistic grin crossing her face as he looked at her with some sort of... alarm? Did Rayquaza actually dread her knowing his real reasons for coming here? Even more interesting.

"Those flowers – have you actually come to profess your undying love for me?" she said hesitantly, backing up and bringing one of her ragged wingtips to her face. Giratina gasped, taking heavy breaths, and she hovered unsteadily as she shrank away from him. "N-not here, Ray, please..."

She intended her casual use of his Latias-ascribed nickname to gall him, but the imagery of him and Giratina together quite possibly overwhelmed Rayquaza as he reared back, apprehension obviated by deeply set revolt. "What?! No! What is wrong with you?" he asked, guttural growl emerging from his throat. "What would make you even think something like that?!"

"I couldn't tell," was her nonchalant response, her devious grin barely visible in the night as Rayquaza just fumed at her.

His expression spoke louder than any vociferous claims he could make – the fact was that she had goaded him into believing she knew his exact reason for coming, and then completely turned that assumption on its head with a single fake, cutesy line. They both knew exactly who had won that battle.

With caution she floated towards her incensed victim, ripples traveling over the lake from the small movement. "Rayquaza, you have two options. You either tell me why you're here," she said, translucent wings speared forward in obvious warning, "Or you can leave. You have about five seconds to decide."

"Fine, Giratina" he growled back, shoulders seeming to slouch under the pressure she exerted. With hesitance he opened his mouth, silvery breath crystallizing in the night air as he first failed to produce any words. Maybe he felt Giratina's scrutiny, for he raised a claw to rub at his jaw for a moment, seeming to actually think his explanation through.

"I come here tonight to honor the end of the Draconid tribe," he said, arms crossed in defiance as he stared at her. "If what you had said was true about Zinnia, it means that they no longer exist. Their culture, their customs, their way of life ended with her, and it would be a miserable shame if no one were to recognize their silent passing." With that he breathed in, chest tightening as he let out a low sigh. "Especially since, as you know, they revered me as a god. That particular detail tends to matter a lot."

She regarded him oddly, watching his body behavior for any note of sorrow, sadness, or some form of emotional weakness. Her familiarity with death rites suggested that this should have been a time for him to lament their passing, perhaps providing some pithy, meaningless platitude about how the Draconids deserved better for exalting him through all their years. But she quickly revised that thought – Rayquaza, by definition, should not have cared not for some simple human existence. Apathy was more his speed.

She couldn't sense any of that from him, though. As Giratina watched him fixate his gaze into the dark lake below, claws still grasping those small white flowers, she instead witnessed the normally intractable, bitter wyrm before her exude an honest-to-god earnestness that violated her very mental image of who he was as a legendary.

Perhaps his honesty was infectious – Giratina felt a bizarre obligation to let down her guard as well, and before she could remind herself how dangerous that was her response already escaped into the night air.

"Is that the case?" she asked, sarcasm fading from her voice as she too became a touch sincerer. "From what I remember, the Draconids lived in Hoenn at Meteor Falls. Why would you come here in the black of night when you can just go there instead? Did you suddenly find bothering me fun? Turnback Cave is the transition point between life and death, Rayquaza. You shouldn't have expected to find graves here."

"You don't think I've tried looking for the Draconids." He said it more as a statement than a question, as if he knew she'd immediately question his reasoning. "Zinnia erased any clues that they had even existed. I've already searched high and low for their settlements, even requesting Groudon's and Kyogre's assistance in scouring the land and seas, and no records, no artifacts, no paintings... they're all simply disappeared. And from what I know, you can't tell me how exactly an individual died, but only that they have died."

"Correct."

He nodded as well. "Ideally, I would like to have found an actual, physical memorial for Zinnia. However, I don't know if, or where, other humans had buried her body. Perhaps she died in the wilderness – if that's the case, there's no body to be found." He sighed as he gave her a tired look. "The point is that I come here as a last resort, Giratina. Turnback Cave just felt like the most appropriate place to see the Draconid tribe off."

That explanation quieted her for a moment, Giratina simply staring at him while she weighed the validity of his words. Although he didn't quite answer why he came so far for the humans, she couldn't find a legitimate reason to expunge him from her home. But oddly, enough, her conclusion wasn't tinged with the usual regret of being unable to further bully the lanky dragon, but rather consumed by that curiosity she repeatedly failed to oppress.

She'll be damned if Rayquaza found out she actually paid attention to him for once. Even though he would never dare breathe a word of their interaction to anyone else, the mere thought of him possessing that ammunition dismayed the ghost. Her interest in his thoughts and reactions directly clashed with her frigid approach towards other legendaries, news that she did not need especially _him_ knowing.

"Why so silent?" She heard the dragon speak, his voice regaining more of its confrontational edge. "Is my reasoning insufficient? Are there any glaring inconsistencies you'd like to pick apart?"

"What I'd like to ask is," she said, drawing her wings closer in to her body from the cold. Hopefully she could draw the answer out of him before he caught on to her true intent. "Why were you so apprehensive about coming here? You nearly ran away when you first saw me."

"Because this is where spirits come after they die," he started with an eye roll, aggravation plain on his face as Giratina simply smirked. "For all intents and purposes, this is a living graveyard. Not to mention that _you_ , of all legendaries, live here. Let's not delude ourselves in thinking that you're some friendly, approachable, caring being who doesn't mind a bit of company. For god's sake, you managed to reduce Latias to tears the last time you talked to her! That's enough of a red flag for any sane legendary to avoid this place entirely."

She ignored the all-too-true facts, too insulated from similar statements over the years to actually feel even a modicum of offense. Rayquaza made it abundantly clear, though, that his excuse concealed his actual motives for coming here. The way he stared at her essentially begged her to buy his story, and for a moment she imagined him bringing his tiny little claws to his forehead and pressing against his temples, trying to make her head explode with some arcane power.

Although the vision was humorous, she wondered sometimes if he knew how truly transparent his behavior was. "Why don't we drop the pretensions," she said acidly, "and cut the bullshit while we're at it. We both damn well that you probably didn't mind coming around here too much, despite how long I imagine it took you to find Sendoff Spring from way up in the clouds." Giratina gazed upon him fully, noticing how the dragon almost seemed to shrink slightly from her as she began her attack.

"The clear intent of the question was asking why you chose to sneak around here like a common criminal instead of just asking me about what you wanted. I understand you don't talk to anyone because it's 'your thing' and all, but you've never had a problem confronting others when necessary. And," she said, gesturing at him with a raggedy wing, "Whatever you're doing seems like it's pretty necessary if you're stealing away from the Sky Pillar at night."

"Now look," the irate dragon said, fangs glinting in the moonlight as he glared at her, "It's one thing for you feel good about your mindgames and trying to insult me, but the moment you accuse me of lying we have a big fucking problem. How dare you, how _dare_ you, Giratina-"

She had to chuckle at that explosive reaction, Rayquaza so easily offering himself up for the sacrifice. "First of all," she interrupted, sharp tone cutting straight through his rant, "You've got it wrong. I'm not trying to insult you – I _am_ insulting you. Secondly, I've not once accused you of lying-"

"What was it that you told me? 'Drop the pretensions?' Seems like you're having a pretty hard time with that right now."

"You're so rich, Rayquaza. What went through your mind when you said that? 'Ooh, turn her words against her. That'll show her.'" Giratina couldn't help but drop her neutral façade for a moment, coarse sneer barely visible from under her mask. It only grew wider as she saw him visibly blanch, suddenly aware that he'd once again been bested. "I merely suggested that there might be a deeper reason for your not wanting to coming here than what you've already said," she continued unabated. "It's not my fault if some jumpy wind chime goes and makes a few assumptions about my statements. Funny how you're so defensive and quick to react. You wouldn't happen to be hiding anything, would you?"

That defeated grimace returning once more, Rayquaza chose to scowl angrily at anything but the crafty dragon before her. Although Giratina enjoyed every moment of his mental anguish, her patience began to wear thin with how nonresponsive her victim was. Getting him to disclose information of any sort proved tough already, but whatever reasons he kept from her seemed even more securely guarded.

"I don't need to answer to you," he said with finality, crossing those small arms across his chest and all but confirming the existence of some ulterior motive.

 _That_ was it. Her patience evaporated the moment he threw out that brazen, petulant response, shattering whatever restraints held her fury in check. Who the hell did this jackass think he was, with that disdainful, holier-than-thou attitude, acting as if he owned her territory?

"You do, though," she said, voice laced with ire. "You come here in the middle of the night and decide to sneak around my territory. You wake me up and drag me into this godforsaken conversation, which I should let you know is just as bad for me as it is for you. And even after all of that, you haven't even told me why you're here or why you didn't even bother to ask me anything at all!" She hardly felt the cold as blood rushed to her face, her wings stretching in anger stance as she floated much closer towards him. "Before I tie your stringy little body into a million knots, Rayquaza, the least you can do is answer for this egregious disregard for my privacy because goddammit, I am pissed."

"Oh, cry some more," he shot back not a second later, snarl masking his jaw. "I broke your beauty sleep – sue me. And your privacy? I didn't even enter that cave, where you keep your torture dungeons or whatever you want to keep under wraps from everybody else." Giratina actually felt her pride sting from that remark, legitimate frown crossing her face as Rayquaza's expression lit in momentary victory. She became used to unsavory comments about herself over the years, but when those remarks were directed towards her work she experienced a need, at the very least, to defend herself and her reputation.

"And I know what you're doing, for your information," he continued with narrowed eyes. "Pretending to be angry, getting a rise out of me just so you can humiliate some more. Well, I'm pretty much done with that. Let me ask you a question for once – why do you even care? The last time I checked, you don't give a shit about what anyone else does, so this is a first for you. Why here? Why now? Are we playing Twenty Questions? Are you practicing the third degree on me? Can't you just fucking let it _go_ , Giratina?"

She tried to conceal her grimace, realizing that Rayquaza had finally stumbled upon the motive she endeavored to hide for so long. What Giratina needed right now was a conversation changer, something ireful enough to distract his attention from her and refocus it back on himself.

She could just attack his pride, again spinning the question about why he chose to sneak around like a common criminal around her territory. His false accusations annoyed her to no end, so calling him out on his own misdeeds was appropriate. Giratina could also just flat-out beat the answer out of him – she trusted her battle skills enough to best him in a surprise strike.

None would really open him up, though, and they'd quickly end up in the same argument. Besides, any answer he provided would be under duress, without veracity or worth in her mind. She then thought back to the beginning of their argument, when with a few sincere words she pried an ounce of truth out of Rayquaza. Maybe that was the solution.

 _It's a bad solution_ , a voice rang in the back of her head. Truthfulness equated to weakness, and she was neither. Being open would simply make her more relatable, easier to talk to, and not a frigid bitch in general. The solitude distanced her from others and isolated her from those tiresome engagements with others. Above all, it prevented her from making those fragile, mercurial bonds that reduced powerful legendaries to emotional wrecks from time to time.

But maybe, just maybe because Rayquaza operated on the same thoughts, he had nowhere to turn when he actually needed to, no one to confide in when necessary. She figured that if anyone were willing to lend an ear, he'd at least become open to discussing what bothered him. After all, a little earnestness loosened him up before.

"So what's your plan, Rayquaza?" she asked, adding enough doubt to her voice to incense at least some indignation. Although the ghost wanted the truth first and foremost, she also needed to shift the focus to him so that he'd cease with the annoyingly personal questions.

"Plan? For what?"

"For those things. What do you plan to do with those lilies?" she asked, gesturing to those flowers he still grasped in his claws. "Leave them at the doorstep of Turnback Cave and hightail it back over the seas? Drop them into this lake and just pretend that's your ceremony? Look, Rayquaza, you say you're here to do something, but you clearly have no idea what you're doing."

"I know what I'm doing!" he said all too suddenly, grip visibly tightening on the lilies. "It's just that I need to think about it! It's none of your goddamn business anyways."

She waited a moment, watching a crimson hue suffuse his horselike face as the stupidity of his words caught up to him. Judging from his reaction, it now became blatantly apparent that he wouldn't provide any information without some nudging. "I propose a trade, Rayquaza."

He stared back at her, arms crossing as he regarded her with suspicion. "A trade."

"You tell me why you're here and I'll help you with whatever you need. Simple as that."

He barked in laughter, harsh sound echoing around the lake. "You? Help me? Have I somehow passed into the Distortion? Why would you ever wanted to help me? And even if you wanted to help me, how?"

"You give me something I want, and I give you something you want. If one party objects, then they're free to walk away. That's what a trade is."

"I know how a trade works, Giratina," he scoffed. "Clearly I'm asking why you're so occupied with what I'm doing. Why this sudden interest? Is there something I need to know?"

"Take it or leave it, Rayquaza – the choice is yours," she said, deflecting his inquiry with infuriating indifference.

In this peculiar case, she already knew whatever interest he held in performing these rites superseded that imaginary pride he held so closely. "Fine, Giratina," he spat after a moment of thought, face twisted in consternation. "Let's make this trade. You first."

"Sure," she said with such casualness that Rayquaza visibly paled. With a wing she pointed towards the entrance of Turnback Cave, mouth pitch-black where even moonlight did not penetrate. "There are several ceremonial chambers in Turnback Cave. Once in a blue moon a mortal – human, Pokemon, or whatever – will find their way here and ask me to grant them the wish of communicating with their deceased. I give those worthy enough the ability to actually enter a room and perform whatever rites they've prepared. Of course," she said as Rayquaza's eyes glinted in realization, "No one, mortal or legendary, can find these chambers without my assistance, so don't get any funny ideas."

"How come I've never heard about this before?" he asked, suspicion clear in his voice. "To think that Giratina, the embodiment of the devil, actually has such compassion and pity to allow others to mourn the dead in her own home! It's unbelievable in the sense that I flat-out do not believe you."

"First of all, I am a lot of things, but certainly not the embodiment of the devil," she said as she narrowed her eyes. "And besides, how many legendaries do you think have experienced actual loss in their entire lives? Not once has a legendary come down here for the express purpose of honoring the dead – you're the first. I'm actually stunned that you doubt that anyone else, with the exception of Arceus, quite understands what goes on in Turnback Cave."

"Not like you've helped that situation at all," he muttered.

"What is it that you said earlier? Something about 'the pot calling the kettle black'?"

He snorted, nodding brusquely at the jab. "But why give mortals the chance to perform such rituals? They have graveyards, memorials, very specific places where they honor the dead. It's pointless; it doesn't make sense."

"Need I remind you that this is a trade, not a Q&A," she said stiffly, none too eager to explore her own charity. After all, allowing him a moment to make that logical connection would invite an even less desirable personal question. "All I'm providing is the proof that I can hold up my end. Now, where is yours?"

He looked at her, ever-present scowl on his face as he rolled his eyes. Undoubtedly he felt gamed again at her answer's simplicity, especially compared to what he held back, but that was no fault of her own. After all, he agreed to the trade.

"How much do you know about the Draconids?" he asked her after a pause.

"Admittedly, not much," she said. "They're a mountain Hoennese clan that developed after you first destroyed that meteor a thousand years ago or so and quelled that battle between Kyogre and Groudon. They then claimed that the meteor would once more return to threaten the planet again, and that the great god Rayquaza would save us all."

He nodded. "That's the general story. There's a specific Draconid class called the Lorekeeper – that person was responsible for summoning me and granting me the ability to Mega-Evolve. He or she would use a Key Stone to provide me with enough Draconid spirit to actually transform. Even as powerful as I am right now," he said with a puff of his chest, "I needed my Mega-form to actually fragment the meteor."

"To think that you'd need to rely on humans to give you power."

"The Draconids were made of different stuff," he said, voice devoid of indignation. "This much you know, as you're able to observe them when their spirits pass through Turnback Cave. Surely you're not surprised at their ability to grant even us legendaries additional power?" Giratina could only nod back, taken aback with how stalwartly he answered her sarcasm.

"After the first event, they erected the Sky Pillar in my honor. For them it was a place for me to rest, a home for the homeless if you will. It also served as a means for them to venerate or communicate with their god when they felt necessary. From there began a whole culture, a whole way of life centered around me."

He chuckled darkly, looking at her with unease. "I know what you might be thinking – Rayquaza loves to be praised, Rayquaza enjoys being honored, Rayquaza probably broke an arm jerking himself off. And the attention was great, at first. We all are known as beings of higher power, but very few worship anyone besides Arceus. To have a group of followers bow to your mere presence does much to fill your ego."

"But the novelty wore easily. I had thought at first these devout humans only followed me as a short tradition, a sort of fad that would disappear in the sands of time much like many, many other human customs. But then they had children, and they taught them the way of Rayquaza and all of that. And those children then taught their children the same, and so forth."

"And you cared about them why?" she asked, previously silent in thought. "These are humans who have simply put an excessive amount of faith in a deity. Why should you have cared about what mere humans did or who they worshiped?"

He looked far above into the starry sky, eyes softening in contemplation. "They took great pride in what they did. Their belief in me, whether deserved or misplaced, rooted itself in every aspect of their lives. The Draconids learned to communicate and raise dragon-types, then one of the Pokemon most despised by humans. They learned to support and educate each other through myth and legends; those tales, although most laughably false, passed down morals and became lessons to live by. They realized their purported role was to summon their god again once calamity threatened the earth, so with this in mind the Draconids understood and respected the preciousness of life."

"Giratina, it doesn't matter why I cared because I was forced into caring." He shrugged, indifference coating his face. "The very fact that a clan developed a religion around you is something that even you, in your wretched reclusiveness, couldn't ignore. To leave their departure unacknowledged is an offense I can't possibly commit."

"My wretched reclusiveness. That's a new one," she said, unable to keep a chuckle out of her voice. "I'll have to remember that." She couldn't help but grin at that, and as she looked at Rayquaza she saw those amber eyes looking back on her, a smug smile on his face. "But what about Zinnia?" Giratina quickly asked, destroying that faint show of emotion before he could comment on it. "There must be more to that girl than just the end of the Draconids."

His levity must have also become apparent to him as well as he matched her neutral countenance. "Right. Zinnia, the last Lorekeeper, the most special of them all. The first time I saw her was when she stood atop Sky Pillar, arms held out high and lungs shouted to exhaustion just to rouse my attention. And when I came, claws bared and all, she displayed no fear, no terror, no passive emotion I'd expect from any other human. Instead, I only sensed determination, strength, resolve – it was damn clear that she was here to save the world, and nothing would stop her."

Giratina nodded, watching how Rayquaza described her with pride, chest swelling as he extolled her virtues. So proud of their development and accomplishments, he seemed almost like the father of their people. _That probably isn't too far off from the truth_ , she thought in silence.

"In that moment I knew what stood before me was the culmination of a thousand years of culture and evolution. Her tenacity, resolve, spirit, all those characteristics that remain when you simplify a soul down to its roots… Lorekeeper Zinnia represented all of the Draconids at that very moment she gazed up at the god they had trained for so long to summon."

He sighed, his almost happy, worn smile fading to a frown. "But you see, my appearance in their time of need meant one thing far more important than the rest. By fulfilling their thousand-year legacy of summoning me to dispatch that meteor, they conceded their very reason for existence. And Zinnia knew that as well – after that event, she discarded her role as Lorekeeper and began anew, finding another reason to live. At some point she must have decided that the Draconid tribe was not worth continuing, and removed its very existence from this world."

"So you must understand, Giratina, I care because the Draconids have proved themselves worth caring for. The way they have grown and developed to care for not only each other, but the well-being of the the world is something to be commended. The Draconids will one day be nothing but footnotes in human history, celebrated as just facts and dates on paper. The very least I could do as the legendary who inspired their creation and damned their lineage is to pay them my respects."

With that Rayquaza concluded, an uncomfortable expression maligning his face as he stared at her. Clearly he expected some judgment, some cynical or snarky response from her, his judge and jury. Maybe about how that emotional connection with humans made him weak, or how silly it was that he even saw such a relationship between them in the first place.

But no, none of those immediate answers arose in Giratina's head. Instead, she found herself surprised that the wyrm had a real, unselfish reason for coming here this night. She found herself impressed that his answer was likely the purest she had ever heard from anyone that appealed in her millennia of rule over Turnback Cave. She found herself intrigued that his understanding of mortals was untinged by arrogance or condescension, unlike that of many others in the Council.

Most importantly was that that his comprehension of life and death aligned with hers so well that even if she wanted to, Giratina could not deny his appeal for any reason at all. A small part of her mind head suggested that she had perhaps found someone to actually discuss that philosophy with, but she'll be damned if she actually found a confidant in Rayquaza of all legendaries.

"Good answer," she said simply.

Rayquaza certainly didn't expect that response; he blinked once, twice, then stared at her. "How do you mean?"

"You asked me earlier about why I allowed mortals to pay their last respects inside Turnback Cave," she said. "There are many reasons that drive mortals to even dare approach this area. Some of the dead do not own graves, like in your case. Other mortals wish to become closer with the recently departed, and a few believe that I can grant them the ability to communicate with them." A hollow chuckle filled the air as she shook her head. "Over the centuries stories of my abilities may have been exaggerated. I have no neither grandiose, magnificent responsibilities like you nor powers that defy the very mechanics of life and death – I just manage the dead, really."

She took a breath, the chilled air filling her lungs as she prepared to stray far beyond what she had previously promised. Giratina had fought so hard to prevent Rayquaza from knowing her personal musings, but now she couldn't wait to get it out of her system, to discuss the concept with someone who thought the same as her. "I only permit those with a good reason to say their farewells inside the cave," she started. "I do this not out of pity or out of some stupid obligation, but for a reason very similar to yours."

"And that would be?" he interrupted, no acidity left in his voice. Instead, she detected an undercurrent of anticipation, those inquisitive eyes and slightly open mouth hanging on her every last word. He'd be right to be slightly fearful, she thought – sharing interests with the ruler of the dead generally was not a good sign of anyone's mentality.

"Your Draconids have lived fulfilling, impressive lives, a fact that even a legendary as socially defective as you can understand," she said, earning a warning grunt from him. "They have demonstrated behavior deserving of respect, and it is for that very reason you come to honor their existence tonight."

"In this vein, you've discovered that mortals are capable of commanding the respect of even legendaries. We are not dissimilar in this regard, for every once in a while a mortal, Pokemon or human, will find their way to my doorstep. Getting to Turnback Cave is an admirable feat already, demonstrating the mettle of the unfortunate soul determined enough to undertake the journey. But it is their reason for coming so far that I weigh; every once in a while, one will approach me with a powerful reason for their desires, a motive driven not by some superficial custom but instead by an appeal from the very bottom of their soul."

"Rayquaza, you would have fought me to figure out where to place those flowers," she said. "You would have risked me turning you into a skewer so you could put your own soul at rest in honoring the Draconids. And," she continued, raising a wing to halt his rebuke, "Were you not able to honor them at all, you probably wouldn't be able to live with yourself."

"You think you'd win a battle with me!" he sneered. "I'd easily beat you!"

"You should try applying that same confidence to other areas of your life," she responded, "Like trying to get Latias."

A sharp hiss confirmed that her armor-piercing question hit home. "But your willpower and reasoning are commendable," she said, "Commendable enough that even though I find you somewhat pathetic and despicable, I will help you in honoring the last of the Draconids as you have requested."

"It wouldn't be too far-gone for me to call you a lifeless devil, either," he rejoined with not a snarl, but a knowing grin. "Or a soul-destroying demon. But the help is appreciated, Giratina."

She acknowledged his insult with an eyeroll, glinting mask hiding how thoroughly amused she was at Rayquaza's newfound confidence around her. It was almost cute how quickly he regained that arrogant streak the moment she became even slightly earnest with him, despite how timid the lillies he held made him appear. But mercilessly destroying him over that would come later, at perhaps a less formal time.

The dragon began to float towards the cave, gesturing him to follow with a wing, when she heard him speak again. "Why this sudden openness?" she heard him ask. "Why the sudden lack of hostility?"

If she had eyebrows, she'd raise them as she turned back towards the following dragon. She had already let slip her reason behind why she would aid him, but there was no reason why Giratina should divulge that deeper secret as well. "I'll answer that question if you go first," she bluffed, reading that the emerald dragon would have no real answer to that question. "A trade, if you will."

Rayquaza's eyes widened a hair, as if he hadn't expected any kind of resistance from her. "… let's not," he finally grunted, looking down and away as the ruler of the underworld simply smirked at him.

That, too, was something she needed to needle him over, but his torture would come another day. For now, she was contented with winning that conflict more than wondering what exactly motivated his sudden reticence. "So are you coming or not?" she asked, offering him a graceful escape from his awkward response.

His noncommittal rumble belied his response as he floated besides her, glancing over at the dragon. "Best to stick close to me if you don't want to get lost," she warned. "Not that I'd mind, of course."

He chuckled at the phrasing. "Mind me getting close to you?" he asked, long body uncoiling. "Has being with me so long made you crave a different kind of attention?"

"I wouldn't mind you getting lost in Turnback Cave, you moron. Keep your attitude up and that might actually happen. You wouldn't want to wander the pits of hell for the rest of your days, would you?"

With that threat the pair of dragons floated towards the cave, one arrogant dragon relying on the charity of a sardonic ghost to deliver some flowers to those brave souls he would never forget.


End file.
